Cracked
by allegrafp
Summary: None of the rejections Lily delivers seem to affect James. But after Christmas holidays, it's clear something - or someone - has gotten to him. Rated T, mostly for language.
1. It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christ

**A/N: The idea for this multi-chapter fic has been floating around in the back of my head for a while, and now it's fermented enough to be a real story. Only bad news is, I'll be out of town for 3 weeks starting tomorrow, so you won't get another chapter for a little while. If you want another chapter, though, some reviews would really help (cough cough).**

**Anything you recognize belongs to J. K. Rowling.**

1.) It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

"Oh, sod off, Potter," Lily snapped peevishly. It was the week before Christmas holidays and he had been following her all around the castle with mistletoe, always with Black at his side. Why couldn't he just leave her alone for once?

He grinned infuriatingly. "Nope. Not until you kiss me."

"Riiight," she drawled. "Incendio." The mistletoe he had charmed to follow Lily burst into flames. She knew it would only be a matter of time before he set another one on her, but she figured she'd would be able to walk to class in peace until then.

Sirius clapped James on the back. "Tough luck, mate. At least she didn't set you on fire." Peter laughed at this, then nervously pulled something out of his pocket.

"What've you got there?" Remus asked politely. He had been liking Peter less and less during their seventh year, but six years of friendship – the sort of friendship that risked your life, no less – didn't go away overnight, so he had been trying to be nicer to his friend and figure out why they were friends in the first place.

Peter unclenched his fingers, revealing an un-burnt, if slightly crumpled, sprig of mistletoe.

"Excellent." James smirked as he took the greenery from the pudgy boy.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Sirius exclaimed. "Go up to her with the mistletoe and snog her senseless. Now!" he added loudly. James was too busy putting a Fire-proofing charm on the small plant.

"Oh, come on, do you really think Lily would fall for that?" Remus scolded. "She'll probably just hex him and leave."

"Fair point you've got there," Sirius admitted regretfully. "Moony! You're a genius!" he shouted.

"Duly noted," Remus said dryly, bemused.

"We should enchant it so she _has_ to kiss him!"

Remus groaned. "I don't think there's a spell that will make _just_ Lily kiss _just_ James. Don't you think it's a little … risky? What if he gets caught under there with, say, Marlene McKinnon?"

"All the better," Sirius grinned. "Maybe then he'll finally get over Evans."

"I give up – do what you want. Just don't come asking me to fix whatever mess you end up creating." He, too, walked down the corridor Lily had disappeared into to get to Transfiguration.

"All right, Prongs, hand it over."

"No way. I need it to get Lily to kiss me! Besides, Peter gave it to _me,"_ James whined.

"And now you're going to give it to me. I know a spell that'll make sure that you and Evans kiss. At last," he muttered under his breath. He tapped the mistletoe a few times, muttered an incantation, then passed it back to James. "There. Go get your girl, Prongs."

"Thanks, Padfoot," James said. "How did you even know how to do that?"

"Eh, I found the spell the last time Moony made us go to the library and study with him. I am still in shock that the library had such a useful spell in it. Maybe I'll go there more often . .." Sirius trailed off in horror. "Forget I ever said that, okay?"

"Don't worry, mate, we'll go to the library straight after supper." James laughed at Sirius' pained expression then ran off towards McGonagall's classroom.

"This is going to be good," Sirius sighed contentedly. He began to stroll down the corridor, kicking a button in front of him continuously as he went.

"Yeah, it sure will be," Peter agreed, bobbing his head furiously.

But when they finally arrived at the classroom a very different sight met them. Instead of a puppy-dog-faced James standing in front of an irate Lily, they saw an incredibly embarrassed Remus trapped under the mistletoe. Lily looked shocked more than anything else, due to the fact that her feet refused to move, no matter how hard she tried. James looked furious, though it was hard to tell who he was furious at.

"Prongs, what the _hell _happened?" Sirius all but shouted.

In a low voice, James said, "I sent the mistletoe up ahead to float above Lily, but when I got here, Remus and Lily are trapped beneath it instead of her and me!"

Remus continued, "I saw Lily up ahead in the corridor, and by the time we were outside the classroom I'd caught up to her. I stopped for a second to say hi, but I couldn't walk away. Then I saw the mistletoe, but all too late. We've been standing here for maybe a minute since James arrived. I don't know which one of us is the biggest idiot."

"You're all idiots!" Lily shrieked. Stupid Potter with his stupid pranks and stupid friends and all his stupid attention. Well. She'd show him.

"What do I have to do to get out of here?" she demanded of Remus.

"Well . . . um . . ." he stammered.

"You have to kiss Moony!" Sirius called gleefully. James shot him the evil eye and he promptly shut up.

She rolled her eyes – a stunt like this was so incredibly juvenile. She had to admit that she should've seen it coming, though. In fact, she was surprised they hadn't tried it before. "Incendio," she said. Nothing happened.

"You can't destroy it, Evans," James told her sadly. "I'm afraid I made sure of that."

"Well, I can destroy you, now can't I?" Lily hissed. She raised her wand threateningly. _Levi-_, she thought.

"Oh, no you don't, Evans," Sirius mock-scolded. "Expelliarmus," he said almost lazily, then reached out an equally lazy hand to catch her wand.

She didn't have her wand and she couldn't move. She would stomp her foot if it were possible. She had to retaliate somehow. What would make Potter as mad as possible?

She quickly muttered, "Sorry about this," so only Remus could hear, then, with a steely glint in her eye that would rival McGonagall's, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

Lily was practically snogging him when Remus recovered enough from his shock to push her off of him. "What was that?" he cried, stunned that she would stoop so low. James looked like someone had punched him in the stomach, but he didn't look like he was mad at him. Yet.

Sirius, on the other hand, whistled appreciatively. "Didn't think you had it in you, Evans!"

"Can I have my wand back now? I won't hex you if you stop that thing from following me around." Lily just wanted to get out of there. She hoped Remus wasn't mad at her. She had used him, after all.

"You won't?" James asked. This was a first.

"Cross my heart and hope to die," she said tiredly.

The two boys looked at Remus, who just nodded. James then lifted the charm from the mistletoe and pocketed it. Sirius tossed Lily her wand, eyeing her warily. "Can I talk to you later?" she asked Remus quietly.

"Fine."

"The library? After supper?"

"Fine."

At last, she entered the Transfiguration classroom, resigned to a class full of second-guessing.


	2. Lord of the Flies

**A/N: So I lied. Here's one more chapter my sister convinced me to write. I was looking at the stats page and 89 people have visited this story since it was put up 8 hours ago. 89! As always, anything you recognize belongs to Mrs. Rowling, and don't forget to review!**

Lord of the Flies

"Thanks for actually coming," Lily started nervously. Remus sat across a table from her in a far corner of the library. He stared at her impassively. "I just . . . I want to apologize. For earlier. I used you and it was wrong. Forgive me?" She said all this in a rush. She and Remus were fairly close – in fact, she considered him her best guy friend – and she hated to think of losing him over something like this.

"Why did you do it, Lily? That's what I want to know," he replied softly.

She sighed. "I was stuck to the floor under the mistletoe and had to kiss you eventually, which was awkward enough, and then Black had took my wand and I . . . I felt like I was backed into a corner. So, rashly, I decided that the best way to get back at Potter would be to make him jealous. I can't say I thought it through, like, at all," she told him ruefully. "And then you saw what happened.

"I guess I forgive you," Remus told her with a small smile. "Being mad at you takes too much effort anyways. But do you always have to retaliate? And so harshly? That was a low blow, Lily, and you know it. Wouldn't it have been better for all of us if you had just . . ." he coughed awkwardly, "gotten it over with quickly, and then just walked away once you were free?"

"Hey, I already claimed temporary insanity," she retorted lightly. Remus chuckled. "But in all seriousness, I guess it's just that I hate how he can get to me so easily and nothing I do or say seems to affect him. He shrugs off rejections and the insults and hexes that go with them like they're nothing more than annoying flies. Whenever I'm more vitriolic, I suppose it's just that I'm fed up with nothing I say or do making a difference. For once, I'd like to see him be the one red in the face with anger, or miserable because none of the girls will dare to go out with him. Honestly, I'd settle for any expression of emotion besides that stupid smirk he always has plastered on his face."

"Well." Remus said slowly. "Hang on. I need to think about this for a minute."

Lily drummed her fingers on the table absent-mindedly. She hadn't realized she was talking so much, and to Remus, no less. Normally, she wasn't the type to pour out her heart and soul to an open ear, especially not concerning Potter. She didn't know why, exactly. Her "relationship" with Potter was simply off-limits. She supposed it was because she didn't want him to catch wind of what she said about him and completely twist her words to whatever suited him.

"Okay." He stood up and began pacing. "It's true that James has a hard shell. Criticism and detentions just roll off his back. But he does have feelings, Lily. Do you really think that he's a soulless automaton?"

"Well . . ." said Lily, only half-kidding.

"Be nice to him and give him a chance. I think you'll find a side of him that you've never seen before. And remember, you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar."

"But I don't want to catch this fly. I want him to go away!" she exclaimed.

"You and I both know that _that_ won't happen any time soon." Remus grinned, proud of his friend's perseverance. "Why not enjoy his company instead of loathing every minute he's around?"

"Is that how you stand being around them?" Lily joked.

"No." he said flatly. "James and Sirius are my best mates, the best mates I could ever ask for. It's . . . hard to explain, but they've done a lot for more, ever since we met in first year, and I'll do right by them no matter what. I know they act like prats a lot of the time, especially around you, but I promise you, they're great guys. I'd trust them with my life."

Lily took a moment to look at her friend. He was clearly agitated and had his arms folded firmly across his chest. His sandy hair was mussed up, a habit she assumed he'd picked up from Potter. It was the first time she'd seen him so worked up over anything.

"Look," she began apologetically, "if they're really that important to you, then I'll give it a shot. Being nice to Potter, that is. Maybe once I master that I'll try to be nice to Black. There's only so much a girl's sanity can handle." The two friends laughed quietly together.

Remus went over to her side of the table and hugged her from behind. "Thank you," he whispered.

"You're welcome," she whispered back. After giving him a final squeeze, she rose and slung her book bag over her shoulder.

"I should go find the others," announced Remus. "I'm sure they're wondering if you've got me locked in a closet somewhere." Remus started for the door and Lily headed toward the stacks of books. Suddenly, he turned. "Oh, and Lily?"

"Yeah?" she replied.

"You can start by calling him James."


	3. The Future

**Disclaimer: I don't have a British accent, ergo, I don't own Harry Potter.**

3.) The Future

"James," Lily said carefully, "would you pass the salt?"

"On a first-name basis now, are we, Evans?" James laughed. "Or should I say Lily?"

"Could you _please_ pass the salt," she repeated quietly. Lily was determined not to lose her temper, not on her first day of being nice to James, and especially not if Remus was around to see her fail.

"Of course," he said cordially, "_Lily._"

She fought back the urge to roll her eyes and proceeded to add the salt to her kippers. Remus gave her a discreet thumbs-up from across the table, and she smiled. Lily turned back to her best friend, Alice, who was looking at her with a mixture of confusion and pride. "I'll talk to you after breakfast?" she whispered. It was best to keep this on the down-low, she figured. Hogwarts could have a vicious rumor mill.

Alice nodded, and then began chatting animatedly. "Do you think a letter from Frank will come today?" she asked eagerly. Frank was Alice's brother Leo's best friend, and had, over the past summer, become Alice's boyfriend. The two were crazy for each other, but, as Frank was training to be an Auror, she heard from him only sporadically.

"It's almost Christmas," Lily replied fairly. "I'm sure he'll write soon if a letter doesn't come today."

"You're probably right," she sighed. "Do you think he'll like the present I got him?"

"He'll use it all the time," laughed Lily. Frank was notoriously absent-minded, so Alice had bought him a Remembrall. Lily secretly thought that Alice hoped it would remind Frank to write her more often.

The sudden scraping of benches against the stone floor meant it was time to go. As soon as they'd left the Great Hall, Alice started interrogating Lily. "So, Potter is James, now?" she teased. "What's up with that?"

"Well, I was talking to Remus yesterday in the library, and basically he convinced me to try and be nice to Pot – James. I figure I owe him that much." Lily grimaced. "Besides, what' s the worst that could happen?"

Alice giggled. "Well, you could fall head over heels in love with him and have seven children."

"No, that'll be you and Frank." Lily elbowed her in the stomach, and the two climbed up the ladder to the Divination Tower. They took their usual window seats and Alice struck up a cheerful conversation with Remus.

"For today's lesson, you will need to find a partner," Professor Celeste intoned. "You will be reading each other's palms, instructions for which are found on page 57 of your textbooks. You may begin as soon as you are paired up." James was at Lily's side so fast that she'd say that he'd Apparated there – that is, if she hadn't read _Hogwarts, A History_ three times already.

"Be my partner, Lily?" he asked, a cheeky grin on his face.

Lily looked beseechingly at Remus, but he had paired up with Alice. He shook his head, looking like he was biting back a laugh. "Fine," she sighed.

"Brilliant." He sat down across from her. "Would you like to have your palm read or read mine first? Lily?" James added. Part of him had thought the day would never come when he'd get to call Evans _Lily_, so he intended to at every opportunity.

"I guess I can do you," she replied, reaching out for his hand. James snorted and took her hand, closing his fingers around hers. Lily swapped out her sharp retort to the innuendo for a glare.

"Palm up, James," she said evenly. When he didn't move, she flipped his hand herself. His palm had been callused from Quidditch and the back of his hand was equally rough and weathered. Distracted, Lily continued, "Merlin's bear, your hand is chapped. Don't you ever wear gloves?"

"Nah," James answered nonchalantly. "What's the point of putting 'em on, then taking 'em off, only to do the whole thing over again the next time you go outside? But I'm always glad to know you care, Lily."

She rolled her eyes and began leafing through her seventh year Divination book, trying to figure out which line was James' life line and which was his love line. "Still." Eventually, she decided that James would live to a ripe old age, followed his heart more than his head (far more, she thought), and would meet his true love late in life (if only because it suited her).

"Your turn, Lily!" James exclaimed. He noticed as they switched that her hand was, in fact, very soft. No doubt she always wore gloves. He didn't even bother to open his book before launching into his 'reading'. "You, too, will live a long life, dying shortly after your true love, presumably from overwhelming grief. Obviously, with you, it's always mind over matter, I mean, who are we kidding? You aren't top of the class because you'd skip class for some secret tryst in a broom cupboard."

"Thanks to you," Lily muttered.

"Not to say that that couldn't change," James allowed, continuing unfazed. "You met the love of your life on September 1st, 1971, when you were eleven years old. You've never been romantically involved with him, but . . . huh." He feigned bafflement. "It says here that, within a month, you'll be going out with him, and married within the year! How lovely for you, Lily."

"Thank you for that wonderful insight, _Potter_," she spat, stomping down hard on his foot under the table. She didn't talk to him for the rest of the week, except for a sullen goodbye at Platform 9 and ¾ before Christmas holidays. Remus and Alice were disappointed in Lily for giving up so easily, but she didn't care, because Remus had been wrong. James hadn't changed.

**A/N: I'm back! Let me know what you think of the story with a review, because it's 11 something and I'm going to wake up early tomorrow.**


	4. Goodbye

**Not J. K. Rowling. On with the story.**

4.) Goodbye

When James and Sirius arrived at the arch where the Potter family usually met, the only person there to meet them was a tired-looking medi-witch in a St. Mungo's uniform. The two boys looked around, sure that they had somehow gotten confused in the press of families picking up their children.

"James Potter and Sirius Black?" the woman called faintly. "Come with me, please."

"Not to be impolite, but who are you?" Sirius asked. "My mummy always told me to never talk to strangers, especially if they looked like they weren't pure-blooded," he whispered to James. He wasn't listening however, having recognized the witch as a St. Mungo's worker. As a child, he'd gone and visited his grandfather, who'd been hospitalized with dragon pox. He followed Sirius mutely.

"I'm from St. Mungo's. Mr. Potter went to intercept a raid on the Tonks household on Thursday night, along with his partner, Mr. Shale. It seemed they would win out, although both men sustained heavy injuries. Mr. Potter was then hit in the chest with four Stunners and collapsed. Mr. Shale had no choice but to Apparate directly to St. Mungo's and send his Patronus out with the news, first to Mrs. Potter, then to the Head of the Auror Department. Your father," she said, turning to James, "is still at St. Mungo's with your mother. We're going to go straight to them."

James had figured as much. "Will he make it?" he asked, clearing a lump that had lodged in his throat without him noticing.

"They don't know," she replied softly.

The boys followed the medi-witch to her car, a beat-up 1967 Ford Anglia, and climbed in. Sirius put a hand on James' back. "Mate," he began.

"It's okay," James said, shrugging his hand off. "It's going to be okay."

"James, your dad isn't that young anymore." Sirius started to say more, but thought better of it. James had to process everything at his own pace. The rest of the ride to St. Mungo's was silent.

When they got up to the fourth floor, James felt a sudden pang of dread. How bad was it, really? He had to be okay, he just had to. The last time James had seen his father, he had been alive and vibrant, a man who exuded power, solid as a rock. If he could be taken down, what was safe anymore?

Mrs. Potter sat slumped in a chair, with the fatigue of one who had been up all night. Her usually pristine clothes were now disheveled and her eyes rimmed red. She got up when James walked in behind Sirius, and they hugged each other desperately, as though the other would disappear if they let go.

After a long while, Mrs. Potter beckoned for Sirius, who had been standing by the doorway, to join them. "We need to stick together," she said brokenly.

"How are you doing?" Sirius asked as soon as she'd let them go. "Is there anything I can do to help? Are you hungry? Thirsty? When was the last time you ate?"

"I'll be okay," she said, truly smiling for the first time since they'd arrived. "But I haven't eaten since breakfast, now that you mention it. Why don't you run up to the tea room and get some food for the three of us?"

"I'll be back soon," he promised, then loped off to find the elevator.

"James," his mother said as soon as Sirius had left, "I don't think your dad's going to make it. He hasn't regained consciousness since he arrived here, and the warlocks say he has until Christmas at the most. If you want to -" she faltered, choking back tears. "If you want to say goodbye to him, now would be the time. Before it's too late."

James nodded, not trusting his voice to speak and not sob.

"I thought so." She gave him a watery smile, then walked over to her husband's bedside. "Clifford, honey," she said loudly, like he was simply hard of hearing, patting his shoulder as though she could wake him up. "James is here to see you."

"Hi, Dad," he croaked, unable to manage more. "Mum says you don't have long, only until Christmas. That's three days. I don't know if you can hear me – maybe, inside, you've already passed on. But you can still hear your family, wherever you go, right? Hell, what do I know?

"What I'm trying to say is, I love you. You were the best father, the best man. You tried so hard to be there for me, even though being an Auror kept you busy. You were always there whenever I just _had_ to tell someone about Lily over the holidays, the one who taught me how to play Quidditch in the backyard. Somehow, a life of fighting left you the kindest person I know.

"I haven't done you justice. You raised me right, but what I never told you was that I used to be a bully. Still am, to some extent. I kept it from you because I was afraid you would be disappointed, but the only disappointment left now is my own. I swear to you, Dad, that part of my life is done. I won't let you down.

"It's too late now, but I love you. Really." His voice was thick with tears. "We all do, though we don't say it nearly enough. And we'll all miss you. I'll miss you." James gave up and let the tears fall freely, crying for all they'd never be. "I know you'll choose to go on, not to become a ghost. It suits you. You were never afraid of anything, not even death. So I guess this is goodbye. I love you." He squeezed his father's scarred hand, then buried himself in his mother's arms.

Some time later a knock came at the door. "Come in," Mrs. Potter called. Sirius entered with enough food for an army.

"Sorry, I got turned around on the way back," he said, piling the food onto a small coffee table. "Is it that bad, Eleanor?" he asked Mrs. Potter in a hushed voice, seeing Mr. Potter clearly for the first time.

Mrs. Potter got up to explain the situation to Sirius. James hunched over in his seat, eyes dried out and aching. He picked at a scone Sirius had brought, but found it tasteless. Nevertheless, he kept eating it, if only for something, anything, to take his mind off the inevitable future. His father was dying, and there wasn't anything he could do but watch. Sirius was talking to his dad now, and James was suddenly grateful that he was there. They needed someone around who could function, and his friend was great in a crisis.

Sirius was never a man of many words, and launched right in. "Clifford. You're the father I never had, but always wanted. You're funny, patient, and such a _good_ person. You took me in when my own family kicked me out, helped me figure out who I was supposed to be, and helped me to become who I am now. I know I don't deserve all that you've done for me, but I am so grateful. I can never repay you. I can only hope to honor your life. You are so loved, Clifford. There'll be a big huge hole here when you're gone. There'll be a hole in me. Thank you for everything." He walked back to James and his mum, quickly wiping the tears that had somehow rolled down his cheeks away.

The three kept vigil by his bedside for what could have been minutes, hours, days for all they knew, praying that he'd make it against all the odds, that the warlocks were wrong, that they could have a few more minutes with him as he used to be. Without his glasses on, Mr. Potter's face was softer, younger. It was easier to see the young man who was beaming in his wedding picture so long ago.

He had a small smile on his face now, looking for all the world like he was in the middle of a particularly good dream. Then, so softly that everyone had to lean in close to hear, he murmured, "Ellie."

The warlock sitting in a chair in the corner came over to see what the commotion was about. When he arrived, he simply said, "Clifford Potter is dead."

**A/N: I had always planned for this to happen, but a lot of this chapter is based off my life. My grandfather passed away about three weeks ago, so I drew on that. A lot. I think that this is the best chapter by far, so review it and tell me what you think! A special thanks to everyone who's reviewed, story alert-ed, or favorite story-ed so far: SmileYou'reWICKED, TheHollyWand, ana-12, Bill Denbrough, Blizzen, writelivelove, animalfreak13, marshmellolova77, Echo101, Paigeeykins, gnome-angel-15, and Narai9!**


	5. Happy Christmas

**Disclaimer: not mine.**

5.) Happy Christmas

The days before Christmas passed in a blur. Mrs. Potter cleaned obsessively and began preparing a Christmas feast. Except for the roast beef. That had always been Mr. Potter's job. Neighbors and friends of the family were in and out of the house, bringing even _more_ food with them as they offered their condolences. She had taken to saying, "Fine," whenever anyone asked how she was doing. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she held onto the belief that if only she acted as though everything was normal, it would be. Somehow her world would be set right-side up.

James spent his days on the Quidditch pitch. He would climb up as high as he dared, then dive steeply, pulling out of it just in time to miss being dashed into the ground. The adrenaline was a welcome change from the emptiness that plagued him. He was always ravenous after practicing and helped himself to huge helpings of whatever food they were eating that day.

Once he realized how vigorously he was eating, though, he slowed down and began picking at his food. His father was gone. Food was supposed to be tasteless and dry. He'd remember that his father would never taste food again, and sure enough, everything became bland.

Sirius was the one who put up the Christmas tree and trimmed it, hung a wreath up on the front door, and sang "God Rest Ye, Merry Hippogriffs" at the top of his lungs. He had to prove that there was still reason to be happy, that life goes on. He needed to convince himself.

The three didn't eat together. They had done so out of habit, the first night they'd gotten home, but no one had been able to ignore the empty seat at the head of the table. Instead, James ate whenever he got tired from Quidditch and Sirius ate with him making small talk, trying to coax James out from where he'd retreated inside himself. Mrs. Potter ate at the usual mealtimes and insisted on setting four places at the table. Sirius made small talk with her, too, and made sure that she ate enough.

When James came downstairs to eat breakfast on Christmas morning, bleary-eyed from blissfully dreamless sleep, his eyes were assaulted by multi-colored presents sitting under a brightly lit tree. His mother was sitting in an armchair by the fire and Sirius was handing her presents to her from underneath the tree. He saw James when he emerged from the tree with a large red and gold wrapped present. "James!" he exclaimed. Sirius frog-marched him to the couch and began piling presents next to him as well.

James stood up, knocking over a few presents, and was halfway across the room when Sirius noticed he was gone. James ran into the hallway, and Sirius broke into a sprint to catch up with him. The boys finally stopped by the front door, winded.

"Come on and open your presents," Sirius wheedled. "We'll try and have a normal, happy Christmas, just like other families."

"What's happy about it?" James muttered angrily. Trust Sirius to pull something like this when they should all be grieving.

"Life goes on, James, and sooner or later you're going to have to rejoin the land of the living."

"Easy for you to say."

"What do you mean, 'easy for you to say'?" Sirius exclaimed.

"He wasn't your father," James said coldly.

"He was the closest damn thing to it I ever had!" he cried. "What makes you so special, that you get to hide from the rest of the world? We're all hurting, James, not just you. Why should your mum have to lose a son as well as a husband?"

"We're all going to end up like him, what's the point anymore?" James asked. All he wanted was to grieve in peace, and now his best friend was turning against him.

"He would've wanted you to be happy. He wouldn't have wanted you to shut yourself away from everyone else."

"He would've wanted to be remembered properly! He would've wanted to matter!" James' voice cracked, and he coughed. "This is all your fault, anyways."

"My fault? And how do you figure that?"

"He never would've died if it wasn't for you and your stupid family."

"They aren't my family, you three are!" Sirius fell silent at his slip of tense. ". . . You know that."

"Blood is thicker," James said darkly. "Wasn't Tonks that Muggle man your cousin married? So then, _your_ family goes and raids their house as a bit of revenge and then my dad gets caught in the crossfire of your prejudice! They killed him!"

"We don't know who the raiders were," Sirius said, fighting to keep his voice even. "And even if it was them . . ." He deflated at the thought of what people such as his cousin Bellatrix could do. "If it was them, then I am so sorry for what my _relatives_ did to him, and you, and Mrs. Potter. But I'm not one of them. They don't want me, and they can rot in Hell for all I care. You have to believe me, James," he said brokenly. "I'm not like them."

"I don't know," James said coolly. "Some poisonous toadstools don't change their spots." He punched Sirius once, twice, three times, breaking his nose and knocking the wind out of him. Seeing his best mate bent over double with blood streaming down his face pulled a plug in him and all the anger flooded out of him, leaving him as empty as before. He headed towards the door, determined to fly until his hands went numb.

"He would hab wanted oo to be habby," Sirius called once he regained his breath. "_Episkey._ He would have wanted you to live."

**A/N: Hi all. Sorry I didn't get this up sooner. I'd like to especially thank everyone who has reviewed so far: SmileYou'reWICKED, TheHollyWand, ana-12 (who has reviewed several times :D), and animalfreak13. Thank you!**

**So, school's already busy, which is just great. And my "h" key is slightly broken and I don't understand why. Oh well.**

**By the way, this story doesn't have a beta, so if anyone is interested in beta-ing, message me! **


	6. Don't Just Sit There, Do Something

**A/N: So, I haven't updated forever, but here's chapter 6. There are two ways to get me to upload faster, which are a.) leave lots of reviews, and b.) somehow make my schedule not busy. Good luck with that. Anyways, I was in a car for 14 hours total these past few days, so I had some time on my hands. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to J. K. Rowling.**

**Oh! And if you are a beta or know a beta, this story is currently un-beta-ed. So help would be appreciated. Thanks!**

6.) Don't Just Sit There, Do Something

Sirius gave James space during the last week of break, hoping that he would come to his senses if given enough time to think. But if anything, James had shut himself off even more, avoiding all human contact. Sirius didn't even see him eat, though he knew that James must've since he hadn't lost any weight.

Mrs. Potter gave up the pretense of normalcy once Sirius found her in the garage with tears streaming down her face as she stared at Mr. Potter's workbench. Together, they planned the funeral for the Saturday before the boys left for Hogwarts, with the visitation the night before.

James felt an overwhelming resentment towards everyone who came to the visitation. The last thing he wanted to do was talk to strangers who had known his dad once and assumed that they knew how he felt. Since his mum was watching him like a hawk when she wasn't too busy accepting condolences, he was on his best behavior, talking long enough that he wouldn't be considered rude, but always making excuses when the conversation got too awkward or personal.

Remus and Peter came down and stayed with the Potters at Sirius' request. He desperately needed help taking care of Mrs. Potter and knew that James needed the extra support, support that Sirius was too emotionally drained to give himself.

The funeral was a quiet affair, but crowded. Mr. Potter had been well-loved in life, even if people only really showed it now that he was dead. The speaker noticed this, gently chastising the assembly to treasure every moment they had with their loved ones. James wanted to be mad at him, too, but found too much truth in his words to really conjure up any righteous anger.

Two of Mr. Potter's fellow Aurors lowered his casket into the ground and presented Mrs. Potter with the Medal of Valor awarded to those who had fallen in battle. James tried to remain listless throughout the ceremony, choosing numbness over pain. He only showed emotion twice – he started when he saw Lily's red in hair in the crowd, and then three tears found their way down his cheeks as the speaker intoned, "Of dust thou art, and to dust thou shalt return."

The train ride back to Hogwarts was tense. Sirius slumped in the corner, catching up on much-needed sleep. Remus and Peter kept up a steady stream of justice to fight back the overbearing silence. They tried to draw James in to the conversation but to no avail; he answered in monosyllables, if at all. When the trolley came, Remus woke Sirius up and all three of them forced James to eat two Pumpkin Pasties and a Chocolate Frog. He spent the rest of the train ride methodically tearing the Circe card up into tiny shreds.

When the train came to a stop, Sirius and Remus hung back, asking Peter to keep an eye on James.

"We have to do something," Sirius said immediately. "He's going to waste away into nothing at this rate."

"It isn't our place to interfere," Remus argued. "He probably just needs time. I mean, he just lost his father. I wouldn't want to talk to anyone, either."

"It's not just that, though," Sirius exclaimed, pacing around the compartment. "It's like he doesn't want to be happy ever again. He's a self-created Dementor. I don't think this is just a phase, Remus," he said in a low voice. "It's been weeks and nothing has changed. We've got to help him."

"But how? I mean, you've been trying for weeks, and nothing's worked. What else can we do except be there when he's ready to talk? Or are you suggesting we torture it out of him?" He raised an eyebrow. "The point is, we can't help him if he doesn't want to be helped."

"Yeah, torture's a bad idea," Sirius sighed. "We just want him to be happy again."

"Wait." Remus had the same look in his eye as he did when he'd solved a particularly nasty Arithmancy problem. "What makes James happiest?"

"Quidditch," Sirius replied promptly.

"From what you told me about winter break, that didn't help. Though maybe it was a good outlet, getting rid of all that pent-up aggression, so that he only took it out on you once." He shook his head. "Anyways, come on, what else makes him happy? We need to show him something worth living for."

"Evans," breathed Sirius, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Do you think she'll help us?"

"I think she must have warmed up to James, at least a little bit. You saw her at the funeral, right? But even before that, I was talking to her, trying to get her to at least be nice to him."

"So that's why she was calling him 'James'!"

Remus nodded. "So yeah, I reckon we stand a chance. Let's talk to her tonight in the Common Room. I expect James'll go straight up to the dorm."

"Can't you talk to Evans," Sirius whined. "She hates me!"

"You're as much a part of this as I am," scolded Remus. "Besides, I think she just finds you . . . overwhelming."

"Fine. But you do all the talking."

"Deal."

Dinner was just as painful as the train ride had been. James picked at his food the whole time, checked his watch every few minutes, and only spoke when spoken to. Without James, the Gryffindor tables were awfully quiet. Marlene McKinnon came over and flirted with Sirius, but he brushed her off.

"We definitely have to do something," Remus murmured in Sirius' ear. "You, not chasing after any girl who seems interested? His melancholy must be catching."

Sirius nodded, then shook his head like a dog to clear it. "I say we corner her right after supper."

Lily's attention had initially been drawn to the Marauder's end of the table by Remus and Sirius' furtive whispers, but she found herself noticing just how different James looked. Gone was the smirk that always graced his handsome features, gone was the mischievous glint in his hazel eyes. He'd even stopped messing up his hair. James looked like he had been cracked, and Lily intended to do something about it.


End file.
